There was a moment that I regretted having the reporter coming over. It isn’t easy for me to relate this incident again, even if it’s half a year later. It’s mixed feeling of pain, sadness and not enough courage to tell this story to a reporter in a cool manner. Yet, I have the urge to let more parents to know this story that the risks of engaging a third party to look after your precious.
Life hasn’t been easy at all. The countless visits to the hospital. Everytime when we are approaching the hospital, I always ask myself, when will be the day when I can STOP coming here. The reviews with the neurologist are still quite positive. Prednisolone is slowly reducing. I’m looking forward to the day where we can slowly wean off, and her puffiness will fade away.
Yes. She’s my cutie. Many strangers came up to me telling me how cute and chubby she is. Inside me, I felt happy with the praises baby is receiving. Another part of me knew the truth that this “cuteness” is due to the medicine she’s taking now. But I’m still glad that she is attracting so much attention (the good and positive ones of course)!
During the last checkup for her eyes, they actually suspected her to be suffering from cortical blindness. She is able to see light, but can’t capture the object. Could be due to the brain injury, or could be the side effects of the medication she’s taking. It hit me real hard. Blind? I guessed I tried very hard to brush it aside, so is my hubby. We never breathe a word about it. But whenever I look at Hazel, yet she isn’t looking at me, but reacted to my voice, a pang of sadness just hit me so hard. Or I tried dangling a toy in front of her, but she’s not looking at it, but smile at the rattle sound, I just want to burst out in tears.
I fall many times. And I picked myself up many times too. It is tiring, but I still have to keep going on.
The only thing that brightens up my gloomy days:
Her smile. Her giggles. The way she clapped her hands.